How Far We Fall
by CherryKind
Summary: Garroth deals with his past and struggles to deal with the present. [[Aphmau's Minecraft Diaries Pre-S2 Episode 1]] *DISCONTINUED*
1. Chapter 1

**A/N:** After marathoning Aphmau's Minecraft Diaries for 5 days straight, I was a bit disappointed at the lack of MD fanfiction so, being intrigued by Zenix and Garroth's past, I decided this was a good thing to write about.

I really liked the two from the beginning and this is going to delve more into the start of their relationship and the years leading up to episode 1, through Garroth's point of view and perhaps Zenix's at some point. This also might take on more mature themes later on (swearing, violence/gore, etc), but I'll post any warnings for each chapter under the author's note.

The plot is undetermined and I don't know when the story might end; this was written purely for fun and to satisfy my need for more Zenix and Garroth. It also should be noted in this chapter, Garroth is around 20-22 years old and is only a trainee guard.

Special thanks to little-miss-gardevoir for being my proofreader!

I hope you enjoy!

 **Warnings:** None

* * *

The air was frigid. The wool coat under his armor was doing little good; it was rare the temperature dropped this low here. The sky was a dull grey and looked seconds from releasing a flurry of snow onto the town. Garroth could see his breath in front of his face and he cast a look up before continuing his trek over the small, uneven hills.

After the rain last night, the slopes were slick with mud and on several occasions, he found himself suddenly having to reach for the nearest tree to avoid a nasty fall. The last thing he needed to do was break a leg this far from the village, where no one could hear him.

Normally, he didn't patrol out this far; but there had been complaints from some villagers that while they were out hunting, they had heard screaming in the forest. Had Phoenix Drop's guard regime had more members, maybe Garroth wouldn't have been sent to investigate alone. But there was no use complaining; he was out here now and there was nothing he could do about it.

He didn't expect to hear screaming. He didn't even believe the villagers in the first place. Perhaps an animal had made the sound they had heard; why would a person be screaming in the forest?

No, he was convinced he wouldn't hear screaming and he would eventually turn around and go back with no new information, then the whole thing would be over. He could finally go back to his house and warm up. He was so set on that, he froze completely when he did hear something. Crying. Very high-pitched crying echoing between the trees.

He blinked in the direction it was coming from, unsure if it was real or not, but the more he listened, he could rule out the idea of it being an animal. The crying was that of a human, but it sounded like a child. He had to be several miles from the village now. What if someone was living out here?

In that case, whoever lived there might not take kindly to a stranger coming up to their home and poking around. Starting off toward the sound, he kept his hand on the hilt of his sword, ready to pull it out of its sheath at any moment should he need it.

He came to a small clearing and was shocked to find a hut with a thatched roof and a fire pit out front. There was a clothesline with several shirts and coats hanging from it and a washboard and pail of water on the ground beside it. He kicked the ashes in the fire pit with his boot as he passed, confirming the fire had gone out long ago.

The crying was definitely that of a child and Garroth felt fear crawl up his spine, making his hair stand on end as he approached the hut. The door was open and slightly offset its hinges. He had no idea what he would find.

Standing in the doorway, he found the hut to be impossibly small. How more than one person could live here was beyond him; there was barely enough room to walk and the clutter inside didn't help. There was a large stuffed pallet on the floor, many crates and boxes lining the room and on the far wall was a crib.

The crying was loud. _There was a baby in the crib._ Garroth looked over his shoulder to make sure no angry parent was going to come up behind him and crack him over the head with something before he drew closer to the crib.

Inside was indeed a baby; a very small baby with curly brown hair and dark eyes. Its crying didn't cease when Garroth peered in at it. He assumed the child was only a couple months old, but its skin was turning blue from being exposed to the winter air. There were no blankets in the crib and he felt a stab of sympathy. Despite not being good with children, he reached in and picked it up.

Hushing the child under his breath, he carefully bounced it in his arms as he searched for a blanket or some material that could be used as one. The infant would certainly freeze to death if he didn't warm it up soon. What parent would leave their child like this? He would think about it later. If the baby's parents got upset, then he reasoned they shouldn't have left their child unattended.

Pulling an old moth-eaten blanket from between two crates, he swaddled the baby in it and held it close to his chest. The crying continued for a while longer before the child reduced to whimpering and sniffling, looking up at Garroth with big curious eyes.

While Garroth wanted to wait around to see if the parents would come back for their child, he knew he needed to head back to the village now that he had located the source of the screaming. He had been freezing himself and he didn't want to think about how the baby felt.

* * *

He told the head guard what he had found and showed the infant to the others. Some regarded the child with disinterest while a few made baby talk to it and asked to hold it. Garroth had no qualms with handing the child off to the first person that would take it now that he knew they were in a place the baby would be warm.

The head guard sent another trainee off to a couple in the village that had recently had a child to beg for milk to feed the new baby. One of the other guards observed the baby was male and hadn't seemed to have eaten in a couple days.

Garroth found a seat in the small house while the others fawned over the baby boy. Despite being glad to be rid of him, he was happy the child was warm and fed now. But he had no idea who would care for him.

The couple with their own baby would find it too stressful to care for two and would decline. Their village had shrunk so much, there weren't any other couples. While the guards seemed happy to play with and feed the baby now, Garroth knew none of them would properly adopt him. What would they even call him?

"Who will be taking care of the child from now on then?" The head guard spoke the question before Garroth had the opportunity to.

"I suppose Garroth will, as he found it," someone spoke up. Garroth's eyes widened behind his helm and he leapt to his feet from the chair.

"I can't take care of a baby!" No, but he might just throw a fit like one. The taller man stared at him with hard eyes and his mouth twitched into a frown.

"It'll only be temporary. I'm sure everyone here will help you. In the meantime, we need to send out patrols to find its parents. It's possible that they died or became lost. Judging by the child being malnourished, they hadn't been back for some time."

Garroth slumped back into his chair with a frustrated, but defeated sigh. He wouldn't argue with his superior, even if he really didn't want to follow his orders. The baby sneezed from his makeshift crib in the corner, but fell silent afterwards, apparently asleep again.

"Garroth, you'll take the child?" the guard questioned. He hesitated, turning his head to stare at the infant, before he sighed once more and nodded.

"Yes, I will."


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N:** Here's Garroth adjusting to parenthood for some filler cuteness.

 **Warnings:** None

* * *

Garroth didn't own a small house, but it wasn't big by any means. There was enough room for his bed, a small table, and a chair, but even that left little walking room. However, as it was only him that lived there, he didn't mind the lack of space. As a guard, he was rarely home anyway.

But now that he had suddenly been left in charge of a baby, as he walked into his house, it hit him just how little room he actually had. Where would the baby even sleep? His bed was big enough for the two of them, but he feared the child might fall off during the night and hurt himself.

He sat on the bed and laid the infant beside him, watching him silently as he tilted his head back and looked up at the ceiling with his wide brown eyes. If Garroth had anything to be thankful for, he thought, it was that the baby seemed like a quiet one. He hadn't cried once since he had been brought back to Phoenix Drop and fed.

With a heavy sigh, Garroth leaned back on the other side of the bed, resting on his side to observe the baby.

What had happened to the boy's parents? The campsite had been abandoned for several days when he happened across it. That meant the child had been left there alone for those days, starving and freezing. Surely his parents hadn't abandoned him there to die. At least Garroth hoped they hadn't.

A knock at the door made him jump and he glanced at the baby for a moment before standing and going to the door. He was a bit surprised to see a short man in a guard uniform standing there, a smile on his face.

"Dale? What are you doing here?" he asked. Dale seemed to be too busy peering around him to look directly at Garroth.

"I wanted to see the kid! So you're a father now, aye?" The other guard very nearly pushed past him to come inside, Garroth backing away in shock to let him in.

"No, I'm only keeping him temporarily. He doesn't even have a name." As he closed the door, he turned to find Dale already kneeling by the bed and talking to the baby in babbling nonsense.

"Well, that means we have to come up with a name for him then," Dale looked back over his shoulder at him. Garroth raised an eyebrow.

"He isn't ours. We shouldn't name him. They'll find his parents anyway." Or he hoped they would. If they didn't, he didn't know what might happen to the child. Dale picked the baby up and continued talking to him.

"Say, where is he going to sleep? You don't have a crib for him," he bounced the boy in his arms, causing him to giggle. Garroth went over to sit in the chair by the table, watching them cautiously

"I don't know yet..."

"I could make a crib for him. It wouldn't be that hard. But you might want to try to make some more room. Babies grow fast, you know. Wait until he's walking!"

Garroth sighed heavily. Dale didn't seem to understand he wouldn't be keeping the boy forever. "I would appreciate that. I don't want him to fall off the bed."

Dale sat the baby back on the bed and turned to the door. "I'll get started on it now. I'll try to finish it by tomorrow. I'll see you later, Garroth." Garroth waved at him as the door shut, then got up and went to hold the child again, who let out a happy sound and held onto his shirt.

Perhaps he would pick a name for him...

* * *

It shouldn't have ever crossed him mind that caring for the baby would be easy. It was early in the morning, before the sky had even began to lighten, when the boy started crying. Having not been accustomed to being woken up like this, Garroth nearly fell off the bed in alarm.

Once he figured out what the noise was, he picked the child up and rocked him, shushing him repeatedly to no avail. With a sigh of frustration, he prepared a bottle and tried to feed him, but the crying continued and the baby showed no interest in eating.

He knew from the beginning he would have to change the baby's diaper at some point, but he had tried to put it off for as long as possible which, in retrospect, hadn't been the best idea. It also didn't help he actually didn't know how to change a diaper.

After a good half hour of fumbling around and trying to figure it out, he finally pinned a clean diaper around the child's waist and the crying almost immediately stopped. The boy looked up at him curiously before sticking his thumb in his mouth and cooing.

Garroth sighed in relief and sat back in the chair, cradling the baby against his chest. Maybe now he would take his bottle. He held the tip of the bottle up to the boy's mouth and watched contently as he took it and suckled. He had only drank half of the milk before he stopped and dozed off in Garroth's arms.

The man put him back on the bed and pulled the blanket up over him, careful not to disturb him into waking up again. Instead of getting back into bed beside him, Garroth decided to stay up and clean. If Dale was going to build a crib, he would need a place to put it.

* * *

Dale delivered on his promise. He came over just after the sun had come up, bringing with him a wooden crib.

"Good morning, Garroth," he greeted. "Are you alright? You look tired." Garroth let out an irritated huff and turned away to pick up the baby, who was looking at Dale and letting out squeals.

"He woke up and started crying last night. I didn't go back to sleep. I haven't had the chance since he's awake now." Dale moved the crib in and put it in the place Garroth had made for it. Taking a pillow and blanket from the bed, he quickly set it up and backed away looking proud of himself.

"Well, maybe he'll sleep now that he has his own bed!" he smiled. Garroth walked over and put the boy into the crib, pulling the blanket over him, then straightened to look at him. The baby didn't seem impressed, but he didn't look upset either and that was good enough for him.

"I'll have to find a babysitter some time. If it continues like this, I won't have any energy to work..." He leaned on the side of the crib. Dale then glanced at the floor, seeming distracted.

"About that, Garroth... Red wants you to take a few months off." Garroth tightened his grip on the crib and turned to face the other guard suddenly.

"What?! Why? I can still work!"

"He thinks you should take a while off to adjust to caring for the kid! He isn't taking you off completely. It's just a few months," Dale explained quickly as he took a step back, unsure what the man might do.

"What am I meant to do then? Phoenix Drop needs as many guards as possible," Garroth argued. The baby let out a whine from the crib, obviously frightened from the shouting.

"We'll be fine. Just spend some time with the boy, alright? The chances of us finding his parents are little to none; he's not that old, he needs someone to look after him. You can't do that if you're out working."

Garroth was still angry about it even if he couldn't argue. He knew Dale was right. But all he ever did was work; the idea of not doing that seemed unthinkable. All for a baby that wasn't even his.

Said baby had begun to cry. Feeling his anger deflate at the sound, Garroth turned and picked the child up to begin rocking him slowly.

"...I can come over and help when I can. I don't mind... Have you thought of a name for him yet?" Dale sighed eventually. Garroth hesitated as he ran through the names he had come up with during the night before settling on the one that had been his favorite.

"Zenix."


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N:** Sorry for the lack of updates! I've had trouble with writing this series. I have ideas that I want to put into it, but no real ending in mind. I also become confused on exact details that were in MD so it's hard to write pre-Aphmau Phoenix Drop. Either way, I hope you'll be patient with me and enjoy the story!

 **Warnings:** Vomiting

* * *

Despite all his fears of taking care of Zenix, Garroth found that as more time passed, he was growing attached to the boy. He would never admit it to anyone, though he was sure everyone could see it.

As Zenix got older, he began walking and talking. Garroth would sometimes bring him to the guard post and everyone would comment he was getting so big. Zenix stood close to 2 feet tall now and he wobbled when he ran, but he was curious about everything.

Garroth had gotten so used to him waddling about and clinging to his legs and asking questions about anything. He was secretly glad his birth parents never came to claim their child. Upon consideration, he didn't know how he might carry on if the boy wasn't there.

He swore he hadn't intended to get so attached.

However, he couldn't entirely accept Zenix at the same time. The other guards and villagers instilled in Zenix's head without meaning to that Garroth was his father. Garroth had to remind him daily to call him by his name. Zenix was confused, but he said nothing about it. He wasn't supposed to question Garroth.

Garroth never called Zenix his son. In fact, he made a point to stress that he wasn't when someone assumed they were related. But this prompted questions about why he was taking care of a toddler that wasn't his own. Garroth never talked about it. Zenix didn't know himself.

* * *

Garroth found that having a child in the house meant he was often woken in odd ways, be it Zenix jumping on the bed or whining that he was hungry. While it annoyed him for the first few months, the man grew used to it and no longer grumbled angrily when Zenix woke him up.

However, that morning, he was woken in a way he hadn't been before. A sharp retching sound made his eyes snap open and he sat up to see Zenix leaning off the bed. He had vomited on the floor and was crying.

This was something Garroth hadn't been prepared for.

"It's alright..." He didn't know what else to say. He inched closer and put his arms around the boy's shoulders. Zenix let out soft gasps and leaned against him; Garroth could feel him trembling.

"I'm sorry," he said in a barely audible voice. Garroth frowned and stood up, careful to avoid the mess, and took a cloth from the table to wipe his mouth. He put his hand to Zenix's forehead and flinched at the scorching heat he felt. He was sick, that much was obvious.

"Lay down," he instructed, pressing the boy's shoulders down gently until he was lying on the bed.

"I'm cold," he complained. Garroth drew the blanket up over him and brushed his hair out of his face. He needed to see a doctor, but the only doctor he knew of was in Bright Port. He knew no one would take a boat over just for Zenix.

"You'll be fine. Just rest now." Zenix didn't seem to have any qualms with this and shuffled under the blanket, drawing in quick breaths through his mouth.

Garroth set to cleaning up the mess on the floor, then went to the well for a bucket of water. While he didn't know much about dealing with people who were ill, he knew enough to know Zenix needed to drink a lot of water. Taking a cup, he urged the boy to drink despite his complaints.

"You have to drink. Zenix-" he sighed. He wet a cloth and folded it across Zenix's forehead, annoyed to find he was still feverish.

Of all the days for the boy to get sick, it had to be today. Garroth had planned to leave Zenix on his own for the first time so he could go on a patrol today. Up until then, he had always had a babysitter when Garroth was out, but now that he was ill, Garroth didn't know if leaving him on his own today was a good idea.

Deciding against leaving him there, he got the boy up and dressed, draping a blanket over his shoulders and leading him out to the guard post.

* * *

"Garroth, is the kid alright?" Dale didn't even greet him when they walked in, turning his attention to the sickly child clinging to Garroth's leg.

"I don't know. He was fine last night." Garroth cast him a look, subconsciously moving his hand to rest on Zenix's head. Dale bent down and smiled at Zenix, who barely mustered a wave in response before reverting back to leaning against Garroth.

"Maybe we should head to Bright Port. He's really pale."

"We can't leave like that. There won't be enough guards to protect the town if we left," Garroth reasoned. Somewhere in the back of his mind, his parental instinct (what little there was) was urging him to take Dale up on the offer. But he didn't want to leave Phoenix Drop vulnerable.

"If it's an emergency, Red would let us go. The town would be fine for a few hours. Zenix just really doesn't look well." The look of concern on his friend's face was honest. Heaving a sigh, Garroth nodded slowly. It was better safe than sorry.

"...Perhaps you're right. If you could get a boat ready, I'll tell Red we need to go." Dale agreed and left, leaving Garroth to go to the head guard's office.

"...Sir?" He asked when he knocked on the door.

"Come in," a gruff voice replied from somewhere within the room beyond. Garroth pushed the door open and stepped into the stuffy room; the smoke curling out of the older man's pipe clouded by the ceiling and made the air hazy. Zenix let out a cough.

"Zenix is ill. Dale and I need to go to Bright Port to see the local doctor. It should only take a few hours." He was holding his breath for the reply; Red had never been fond of the boy. Of course he didn't dislike him, but he didn't care for his well-being either.

The man's eyebrows furrowed at the statement and he took on a slight frown. "Is it that serious? It may just be a bug. Children get sick all the time, you know." Garroth shifted his weight, looking down at the boy still holding onto his leg.

"Dale thinks it's serious. He vomited this morning and has a terrible fever. He's still young; I would rather not take a chance." Red sighed and took a puff from the pipe, blowing out the smoke slowly in thought.

"...Alright. You have my permission. But I want you both back as soon as possible, do you understand?"

"Yes, sir." Garroth saluted and turned to leave, Zenix following after him obediently.

* * *

Dale worked fast as it seemed; a boat was ready at the shore when Garroth made his way down the slope. Zenix had felt faint and Garroth had feared he might fall so he was now carrying the boy on his back.

"We shouldn't need that much. If we forget something, we can get it in Bright Port. We should hurry," he urged. The longer they waited, he worried more for Zenix's health. Surely a 4-year-old shouldn't have a fever like that for so long.

"We're ready now. Come on," Dale motioned. He climbed into the boat and steadied it as Garroth followed him, swinging Zenix off his shoulders to sit on the bench.

* * *

Finding the doctor had been fairly easy and a few hours later, Zenix was lying on a table inside the doctor's home. The man had stripped him of most of his clothes to examine him and Garroth felt terrible when he noticed the child was shivering far worse now than before.

Dr. Doctor was listening to his heartbeat while Dale and Garroth stood to the side. Garroth eventually edged forward and tucked the blanket around Zenix.

"Well, the good news is this is a very easy fix. It isn't that serious, but it could have been had you not come so it's a good thing you did. The bad news is his fever is very high and that worries me," the man eventually said, putting the stethoscope away. Garroth looked at the boy, then back to the doctor.

"What can you do? I'll pay no matter what." He didn't really have the money, but he would do what he could.

"Don't worry about any payment. I'll give him some tea that will re-hydrate him and reduce his fever. That's all I can do, really. The illness just has to run its course," Dr. Doctor stood and went to a workbench in the corner and began taking jars that were filled with sweet-smelling dried plants from a shelf.

It wasn't the best news, Garroth supposed, but it was better than nothing. It meant Zenix would get better. Dale sighed and went to sit across the room.

"The things you'll do for your kids, eh?" he joked. Garroth didn't realize how truthful that was.


End file.
